


The God of Mischief

by Taaroko



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Canon Compliant unless it gets Jossed by Avengers 4, Extended Scene, F/M, Fleshing out the beginning of Infinity War, Gen, Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Mid-Credits Scene, hope for Asgard, hope for Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-01 17:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14525652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taaroko/pseuds/Taaroko
Summary: Loki has been waiting for Thanos to catch up with him for years. Does anyone really believe the best plan he managed to come up with was a frontal attack with a dagger?Okay so I wanted to write something to flesh out both the mid-credits scene of Ragnarok and the beginning of Infinity War. Asgard isn't going down without a fight.





	1. Defense Mechanisms

It had been several tedious weeks since the _Statesman_ left the floating wreckage of Asgard behind, and it would be many more before it arrived at Midgard. For now, everyone on board was looking forward to reaching the jump point to Vanaheim. Lady Sif was there, where “Odin” had stationed her for the past two years, and Heimdall had contacted her to give her time to prepare for their arrival. Thor was especially eager to be reunited with her after learning of the deaths of the Warriors Three. The ship was to spend a few days resupplying before continuing on. Quite a few aboard had family on that realm—all told, there were likely more Aesir and part-Aesir living among the Vanir than had escaped Asgard alive, and nearly as many living with the Ljosalfar on Alfheim. Asgard was not gone, only scattered.

If Loki had his way, they would remain on Vanaheim indefinitely. He had no intention of returning to a backwater planet where various governments and that upstart sorcerer would undoubtedly want to take him prisoner, not when he had regained much of the goodwill of his own people by coming to their rescue. Surely it would be easier to secure sanctuary from their longtime allies and equals than from mortals who, thanks to him, quite reasonably might expect trouble from them. It was a conversation he needed to have with Thor, and soon. For the moment, though, he was having far too much fun.

“Another, Prince Loki, another!” Half a dozen small, eager faces looked up at him.

“If you insist,” he said, feigning exasperation. Still sitting cross-legged on the floor of the mess hall, he waved his fingers to conjure new illusions. His magic had always made him more popular with the children of Asgard than with the older generations, and that had not changed. He often preferred it that way. Children were creatures of chaos and mischief, like him. Most adults were dreadfully dull in comparison.

He began telling them another tale using his illusions, and they watched with wide eyes. He could feel a different pair of eyes on him, though, and he glanced around to find Brunnhilde watching him curiously from the table in the far corner. For a fraction of a second, he could’ve sworn she was smiling over her bottle, but as soon as he met her gaze, her expression flattened and she walked out of the room.

The momentary distraction meant that Loki lost the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat when the Hulk lumbered into the mess through the starboard entrance. He had been very careful to avoid placing himself within smashing range of the Hulk for the entire journey so far, and now he was convinced he would pay for letting his guard down. But the great green beast only sat down behind the cluster of children, eyes fixed on the dancing images. Loki nervously carried on with his tale, and the Hulk laughed and clapped along with the children in a way that was remarkably reminiscent of a happy toddler.

Eventually, the parents or caretakers of each child came to collect them and that portion of the mess hall cleared, leaving Loki alone with the Hulk. Well, he wasn’t just going to sit there like a mouse waiting to be pounced on by a cat. He got up and retrieved some of the tasteless, nutrient-enriched protein that comprised most of the rations in the ship’s stores, then sat down at a table to eat it. Hulk had still not moved.

“Not that I’m not appreciative,” said Loki after swallowing the first bite. “But for my own peace of mind, I must ask. Why is it that you haven’t attempted to fling me into any walls or out the airlock yet? You haven’t grown fond of me, have you?”

“Hulk not fond of puny god,” Hulk scoffed, casually swatting Loki over the back of his head, which sent him smacking face-first into the table. He gritted his teeth and sat up straight again. “Hulk not smash because Thor like puny god. Angry girl like puny god.”

“Wha—angry girl?” said Loki, so bewildered that it came out more of a squawk. He forcibly recovered his composure, glad that only the stupidest passenger on the ship was within earshot. “Wh-what makes you say that?”

“Angry girl only sleep, train with Hulk, and drink with puny god. If Hulk smash, it make angry girl sad.” With that, Hulk grabbed a fistful of the protein packets and stomped back out the way he came, leaving Loki to his shock.

No. Surely he was mistaken. Yes, Brunnhilde had been doing a lot of drinking in his company and tended to pop up nearby whenever he wasn’t in his cramped quarters, but that was because Thor had set her to keep an eye on him. Neither she nor Thor had told him so, but he wasn’t a fool. She couldn’t be doing it by choice. He frowned. Unless he’d been wrong. But that was absurd. Why would she spend time with him _on purpose_? All they ever did was snipe at each other, often involving daggers. Just because _he_ had a lot of fun doing it didn’t mean she felt the same. To act on his steadily growing attraction or even make it known would be suicidal, and he didn’t currently hate himself enough for that.

She _had_ told him her name, though. Possibly only him, because Thor had been confused when Loki had referred to her by it.

He pushed that thought aside. The last Valkyrie was stunningly beautiful even passed out drunk, she was the pinnacle of the Asgardian warrior ideal in battle, and she could have her pick of any unspoken for man, woman, or alien aboard this ship—his brother included. Why would she waste her time on the Jotun impostor prince who had a habit of betraying those closest to him?

Not that he’d felt any particular inclination towards treachery of late. At the very least, he should’ve wanted to plot a way to get back at Thor for his trick with the obedience disk on Sakaar, but watching Thor with his shorn hair and his one eye brooding over how to build a new start for his people...he didn’t have the heart for it. Perhaps that would change once they weren’t all jammed into this metal container anymore.

He finished eating and left the mess. Life aboard the ship operated in shifts. There weren’t enough bunks to go around, so they rotated using them every eight hours. This made it easier for whichever two-thirds were awake at any given time to use the rest of the space for other activities, and it gave the illusion that they weren’t straining the ship’s capacity to the breaking point. Right now, they were approaching a shift change, so there were a lot of families (or, more often, fragments of families) sitting huddled together in the corridors, waiting to regain access to their quarters.

Loki found Brunnhilde on the deck that had been designated for combat training (because of course a ship full of Aesir would consider that a necessity, even after Hela had slaughtered almost every last one of their trained warriors), and his breath caught in his chest. She had a corner of the room to herself, where she was moving smoothly through sword forms with her Dragonfang. He wouldn’t have believed it possible for someone to fight with the raw brutality of his brother while maintaining any semblance of gracefulness, but she walked that line with ease, and it was mesmerising to behold.

Her focus appeared to be absolute, and he doubted she’d noticed him yet. He watched her for a moment, analyzing her patterns of movement. Then, while she faced the other way, he walked to place himself where this form appeared to be heading. She came to a halt with the blade of her sword resting against his throat and smirked.

He grinned and held his hands up.

“Something I can help you with, Lackey?”

“You seem in need of a sparring partner,” he said.

“Oh, and you think you’re up to the challenge?”

“Challenge is what makes it fun.”

“Then I hope you’re quicker on your feet than you were on Sakaar.” She threw the Dragonfang aside, where it stuck several inches into the wall, then whipped out two daggers and began at once. He conjured his own daggers and spun away to avoid taking hers through his shoulder and eye.

And so they danced. Sometimes she drove hard and fast, a berserker’s gleam in her eye, sometimes she smiled and twirled like she was made of liquid. Without using illusions, it took all his concentration to keep pace with her. Neither of them held back, but it wasn’t a fight to the death, so when their daggers, punches, and kicks made contact, the damage was deliberately minimal.

The longer they sparred, the more she seemed to enjoy herself. “I haven’t seen you on this deck before,” she observed after he parried another strike. “What brought you here?”

“Curiosity,” said Loki, panting slightly. He went to catch her ankle with his, but she sidestepped. “With you showing up in my general vicinity so often, people are starting to get the wrong idea.”

“Oh yeah?” She lunged, and he blocked. “And what’s the _right_ idea?”

“That my brother ordered you to tail me around the ship and report back on what I’m up to.”

Something behind her eyes went cold. “Is that what you’ve decided I’ve been doing?” Suddenly the lightheartedness went out of her movements, and within seconds, she had swept his feet out from under him and slammed him to the floor hard enough to wind him. She crouched down so that her face was close to his. “Then I’m sorry I’ve disturbed you, your highness.” She stabbed one of her daggers into the shoulder of his leathers and into the floor beneath, slicing more deeply into his skin than any of her other attacks along the way, then got up and stalked off. He wrenched the dagger free and followed.

“Brunnhilde, wait!”

She did not slow her pace. “It it so hard to believe someone might _like_ spending time with you?”

“Considering that I go to great lengths to ensure that they don’t, yes,” he retorted, while simultaneously casting a spell to muffle their voices against eavesdroppers, for there truly was little privacy to be had on this ship.

She reached a window at the end of the corridor and rounded on him, arms crossed. “Right, and that’s why you put on all those storytelling sessions for a bunch of scared kids who’ve lost nearly everything. What a monster.”

He gave an involuntary flinch at the word, and she raised her eyebrows.

“Evidently you haven’t heard about my origins,” he said.

“Yeah, you’re a Jotun. So?”

He laughed harshly. How easily she dismissed the revelation that had shattered his entire world. “Well as a Valkyrie, you must have fought in the war.”

“I did. Killed dozens of them. That’s what war is. They had their orders, I had mine. It wasn’t personal.”

“Fine, if my birth isn’t bad enough, then what of my actions? I can’t imagine you haven’t heard about those.”

She rolled her eyes. “ _Your_ actions? Everyone else on this ship thinks I’m a damn hero just because I helped rescue them from Hela, and it’s all horseshit. I failed my shieldsisters and even failed to die with them. Then I dishonored everything they stood for by running to the other end of the universe like a coward and going on a centuries-long bender during which I paid for my booze by handing people over to the Grandmaster to fight to the death. We’ve _both_ done terrible things, and somehow we both ended up here.”

“Hmm. Kindred spirits, are we?”

In an instant, she had a dagger on his throat again. “If you’re mocking me—”

“No,” he said, and he meant it. “It’s just something of a novel concept.” Perhaps it was what had drawn him to her as well. Asgard had broken her like it had broken him, they had both done their best to sever ties with it, and yet neither of them could bring themselves to abandon it.

She lowered the dagger and scuffed the toe of one boot against the floor. “Well I’m _not_ spying on you for Thor. You could keep being an ass about it or you could let it be a good thing.”

He smirked. “My dear Brunnhilde,” he said, catching one of her hands in his and lifting it to his lips, “whatever makes you think I can’t do both?”

X

When he found Thor on the bridge a few minutes later, it was difficult to keep a pleased smirk off his face. Heimdall wasn’t there, and neither were the Hulk or that walking boulder, so this might be his best chance to broach the subject of their destination.

Thor noticed him and smiled, then went back to looking out the window. That simple, familiar acknowledgement made him ache. He might not deserve forgiveness for all that he’d done, but perhaps Thor was fool enough to give it to him anyway. The bone-crushing hug he’d given him after he first arrived on the ship had certainly indicated it, as had his behavior towards him since. He felt a twinge of guilt for assuming Thor had set a tail on him. Could they truly go back to being brothers who loved each other? He could admit to himself now that he wanted that. He might never have realized it if it hadn’t been for the elevator ride on Sakaar, and still he’d immediately betrayed Thor again—or tried to. He’d intended to provoke Thor to anger, to prove he still could, but Thor had seen right through him, and the awareness that he might’ve finally done enough to make Thor give up on him for good had sent him scrambling back to Asgard with this ship.

He joined Thor in front of the wide window. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?” he said.

“Yes, of course!” said Thor lightly. “The people of Earth love me. I’m very popular.”

“Let me rephrase that. Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring _me_ back to Earth?”

“Probably not, to be honest. But I wouldn’t worry, Brother. I feel like everything’s going to work out fine.”

Within seconds of those words leaving his mouth, their view of the cosmos was blotted out by a massive ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hulk makes a pretty good wingman, doesn't he?
> 
> Loki and Valkyrie are the most prickly people I think I've ever written, so their scene was fascinating to write. Considering that we've never seen Loki being overtly flirtatious at all with anyone in any of the movies (and I don't think we've even seen him being attracted to anyone, with the possible exception of Valkyrie), it's kind of my headcanon that he's very bad at it. He hates himself, which makes the idea of someone liking him baffling, so instead of being charming, he feels like he has to dissect their motives and find out what they're really up to. Silly Loki.
> 
> Next up, we'll be dealing with what happened between the mid-credits scene and the beginning of IW.


	2. In Your Right Mind

Terror pooled in Loki’s veins and all thought of persuading Thor that they should remain on Vanaheim was forgotten. He knew that ship all too well, and he had known it would find him one day.

He had cost Thanos the Mind Stone and a large army of Chitauri on Midgard, had kept the Space Stone safe in Asgard’s vault for years, and had even sent the Reality Stone to a place nobody should ever think to look for it, much like Odin had done with the Tesseract on Earth over a millennium ago. By doing what he could to keep the two Infinity Stones he had access to out of Thanos’s reach instead of handing them over, he had forfeited any chance at mercy or favor for himself. It was one of the reasons he had spent four years pretending to be Odin while staging plays to spread word of his own demise.

For centuries, Asgard had stood as the greatest obstacle between Thanos and his mad goal of culling back the universe’s population in order to “save” it, and so when one of his enemy’s princes had fallen into the void, he had been quick to snatch him out of it. Then his children had set to work remaking Loki’s mind, and they had not been gentle. Twisting his memories, his desires, his pain, crafting a weapon for Thanos to wield against Yggdrasil. Loki was disgusted to think how easily they’d done it. The boy who fell from the Bifrost had been too broken already to withstand any assault. After they were finished with him, off to Midgard he had gone to fetch the Tesseract like an obedient dog, with manufactured dreams of conquest that would rival those of his hated true father. What hideous irony.

Loki couldn’t be sure when he had begun to come back to himself—for whatever that was worth. Perhaps it was the beating at the Hulk’s hands. Perhaps his time in Asgard’s dungeon coupled with the prolonged separation from the Mind Stone and the ones who’d used it on him. Perhaps the Other’s death—he’d felt _that_ from across the universe, like the sensation of shackles coming free or of his face breaking the surface of the water after being held under. Yet he’d kept his silence. The truth might have gained him mercy or pardon, but the cost would have been his pride. He would rather assume the full blame for his actions than allow it known what had been done to him. He would rather be seen by Thor as a villain than a victim.

He stared at the ship. He’d been preparing for this moment, particularly since the fall of Asgard, and yet it was still a struggle not to be consumed by panic now that it was upon him. He quickly rehearsed his plans to himself. They would _work_ , damn it. He could not afford to succumb to fear. Thanos did not have the Mind Stone, which meant there was a chance. He still had the most dangerous tool he’d forged with it, however, and _she_ was the one who had to be destroyed before anything else could be attempted.

“Strange that Heimdall did not alert us to this,” Thor murmured. He did not sound nearly perturbed enough.  

“He would not have seen it,” said Loki. Ebony Maw would have taken precautions against such forms of magical surveillance. “Get the people into the shuttles and have them make for the jump point to Vanaheim.”

Thor turned to stare at him. “What? Loki, do you know this ship?”

“You once asked me who controls the would-be king. The answer lies before you.”

Thor’s eye widened. “Did you...did you bring them here?” He sounded like a man who was bracing himself for another betrayal but desperately hoping he was mistaken.

“No!” said Loki fiercely, seizing Thor by the shoulders. “I swear it on Mother’s memory, Brother. This is an enemy of Asgard from the time we were children—one Asgard might have stood against at its full strength, but not now. Please! You must trust me. I have seen what he can do and how he does it, and I would not see it done to the remainder of our people.” He didn’t even need to lower his mask; he knew the fear was already plain enough in his eyes.

Thor’s hesitation lasted only seconds. “I trust you,” he said, and sweeter words Loki had never heard. “Tell me how to save our people.”

X

Loki stood with Thor, Heimdall, Korg, and Miek. In front of them were the ship’s main doors. At their backs were the pit fighters from Sakaar and several dozen Aesir who could not be persuaded to flee on the shuttles without standing and fighting first. If Loki had known less about Thanos’s goals, he would have argued harder against that, but the more to stay and fight, the less likely he would be to pursue the shuttles. Loki was only grateful that Brunnhilde had accepted her role in coordinating the escape. The Hulk would stay with her until everyone was aboard.

Another blast rocked the ship, and alarms began to blare, casting a strobing blue light over all of them. Loki and Thor both glanced at Heimdall.

“They’ve hit another engine,” he said. “The ship is almost crippled.”

Something slammed into the doors from the outside. Everyone’s grips tightened on their weapons. Thor would be feeling the loss of Mjolnir again in this fight; lightning without something to focus it wasn’t much use when they were all standing inside a giant conductor. Loki continued reinforcing the protective spells over Thor’s and Heimdall’s minds, much like the ones he’d been casting continually on himself for the last few years. He was putting the finishing touches on Heimdall’s when the doors were abruptly parted by enormous metal claws and wrenched apart.

Everyone with projectile weapons immediately began firing into the boarding vessel on the other side, and they were rewarded by shrieks of several wounded Outriders, but dozens more poured onto the deck, and Asgard’s final stand began in earnest. Loki ducked and weaved through the mindless beasts, slitting throats and stabbing between ribs, waiting for the real enemy, Thanos’s scout, to make her entrance.

And she did. The chill of her power rushed past him before he saw her and he smirked with grim satisfaction. This would be no easy feast for her. There were at least fourteen wildly different species here. She would have to go through them one at a time, learning each type of mind before she could begin draining it and turning it to her own purposes. Sooner or later, she would have to show herself to speed the process—

Heimdall gave a surprised yell as a hand that looked like it was made of blue marble closed over his scalp while he was in the middle of fighting off two Outriders. A tall woman in a hooded white cloak had appeared behind him. “Is this the Gatekeeper of Asgard?” she purred. “A mind like yours...what a rare delicacy.”

“One that you shall not have,” said Loki, and, having slipped behind her, he plunged his daggers into her back. She screamed and thrashed like an overturned spider. He twisted the daggers and hung on tighter. “And you shall never taste mine again.” She went still with recognition.

Heimdall staggered away from her, a pallor to his dark skin even after that brief contact and with the help of Loki’s wards, but he succeeded in heaving Hofund up in a great arc. Loki leapt back just in time to avoid being beheaded along with her. “Apologies, my prince,” he panted, sinking to one knee.

“No,” said Loki. “You played your part well, Heimdall.” He bent down and stabbed the severed head a few times just for good measure, sending fire down the blades as he did. One could never be too careful with omnipath psychic vampires.

“Long have I been Asgard’s first line of defense,” said Heimdall. “Never have I been bait.”

The last of the Outriders had fallen, along with several of the defenders, but nobody was kneeling, empty-eyed and placidly awaiting Thanos’s arrival, so it had been a victory. Thor now called the survivors to rally around him. Before they could, a roiling storm of fiery purple and black energy poured through the doors and flooded the deck. Loki had time to recognize the work of an Infinity Stone before he, along with everyone else, was knocked off his feet.

X

Loki, Thor, and Heimdall were the only ones still alive of those who had stayed to fight now that Thanos and his remaining children had boarded the ship. Even with their omnipath dead and unable to mentally subdue their opponents, they had made short work of everyone else after the assault from the Power Stone. Dead Aesir were strewn all across the floor, mingled with the pit fighters and bits of loose rock.

“I thought Asgard would put up more of a fight than Xandar did when I claimed this from them,” said Thanos, raising the gauntlet with its purple gem. Thor lay sprawled on the ground beside him, barely conscious. “But then, I thought Asgard would still exist. Apparently the rumors of Ragnarok were not exaggerations. It will make this much easier.”

“You have me to thank for that,” said Loki. It was technically true, after all. “Now there’s nothing standing in your way.”

“Oh, did you do this for me?” said Thanos. He sounded neither convinced nor interested, and now was not the moment for Loki to push it. Not with Proxima aiming her three-pronged energy spear at his head from point-blank range.

Ebony Maw began yammering his usual tiresome zealotry, and Loki took advantage of his long-windedness to send a projection to the shuttles.

“Brunnhilde!” he called loudly.

“What the Hel are you doing up here?” she said. The corridor around them was clogged with people packing onto the five smaller crafts. The two-day journey to Vanaheim would not be a comfortable one. “What’s happening?”

“How close are you to being gone?” he asked.

“Just a few minutes more. A pack of those yellow and black beast things got up here, but we killed them all. Only a few casualties. Do you need me to fight?”

“No!” he said, perhaps a little too quickly. “But I would be much obliged if you could send the Hulk down to the main deck.”

“Loki!” she said when he turned, intending to dismiss the projection. She made to grab him and leaned closer in a way that marked her clear intention to kiss him, but of course she went right through him.

“I’m afraid that’ll have to wait for another time,” he said, smirking at her rising blush and indignant expression.

“You sneaky bastard.”

“Get everyone to Vanaheim,” he said, ghosting a hand over her cheek. “Don’t look back.” And then he was back in his body.

“...Smile, for even in death, you have become children of Thanos.”

Good. Hadn’t missed anything important, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I killed Korg and Miek. Sorry. They're just endearing enough to be important casualties, but not quite enough for me to do contortions in order to save them. 
> 
> Okay so the chick Loki was so keen to kill was Supergiant, the only member of the Black Order to not make it into the movie. I avoided using her name in-story because it is a very stupid name, but her powers are terrifying, and it seemed plausible that Thanos would send her in first to make his victims more pliable. According to me, Supergiant and the Other ran point on reprogramming/indoctrinating Loki with the Mind Stone before sending him to conquer Earth and retrieve the Tesseract. Ronan helpfully killed the Other and the Mind Stone is on Earth, which leaves Supergiant as the only psychic threat on Thanos's team. With her dead, the rest of Loki's plan has a much higher chance of success, and Asgard taking down one of Thanos's elite minions and a wave of grunts is much more satisfying than all of them simply getting demolished by the Power Stone. Also, I let Supergiant get her hands on Heimdall and do some damage to him to help explain how beaten he appears when we first see him in the movie.
> 
> It occurred to me as I was writing this chapter that Asgard probably was the main reason Thanos never made his move before now. But as soon as Asgard wasn't in a position to defend the nine realms anymore, he was racing across the universe to collect Infinity Stones. Which means he didn't just come looking for Loki. He would've come for Asgard anyway, to make sure they're no longer an obstacle to him.
> 
> Up next, the rest of Loki's plan.


	3. Xanatos Gambit

“I know what it's like to lose,” said Thanos. Loki hated the sight of his brother beaten on the floor, still unable to summon his storm for fear of harming his own allies. “To feel so desperately that you're right, yet to fail nonetheless.” He bent and picked Thor up by the front of his armor.“It's frightening. Turns the legs to jelly. I ask you to what end?” He forced Thor into a kneeling position and grabbed him by the head. His hand was large enough to close around it. “Dread it, run from it, destiny arrives all the same. And now it's here...or should I say _I_ am.”

Norns, Loki thought, had _he_ sounded this pretentiously grandiose when he’d been in Thanos’s employ? He hoped not. The Titan was actually speaking to the survivors of Asgard about loss as if they were not intimately familiar with it.

Thor apparently felt the same. “You talk too much,” he grunted.

“The Tesseract or your brother’s head,” said Thanos, ignoring Thor and facing Loki. “I assume you have a preference.”

“Oh, I do,” said Loki coldly. “Kill away.” If Thanos didn’t already have the Power Stone, if they were fighting on solid ground, if a thousand other useless variables, the upper hand would be Thor’s. The situation being what it was, the only thing to be done was for Loki to play to their expectations of him. This was the part of the plan he had not confided in Thor. He was going to _lose_. Because losing, after all, was quite different than being defeated—a distinction Thanos would not understand, for all his presumed wisdom.

Thanos shoved the glowing purple knuckle of the Gauntlet against Thor’s temple, and Thor cried out in pain. Loki could not afford to react as carelessly as he had on Svartalfheim, or the consequences would be far worse than a sword through the chest. Still, he managed to keep his emotions in check for perhaps ten seconds before he couldn’t bear it anymore. “Alright, stop!” he shouted. Thanos eased off, looking satisfied.

“We don’t have the Tesseract!” Thor groaned. “It was destroyed on Asgard!”

 _Oh, Thor,_ Loki thought. _Did your experience with the Aether teach you nothing of the durability of Infinity Stones? Even Surtur could not have destroyed it._ Had there been no stones in that Gauntlet, he _might_ have been willing to find out how Thanos and his children fared against the full force of the other artifact he’d stashed away during Asgard’s final moments. Such a shame. The lot of them frozen solid could have been quite an entertaining sight. Instead, with a slightly apologetic glance to Thor, Loki lifted his hand, accessed his dimensional pocket, and produced the shining cube.

“You really are the worst, Brother,” said Thor. He sounded more exasperated than anything.

“I assure _you_ , Brother,” said Loki, “the sun will shine on us again.” How badly he was abusing Thor’s renewed trust in him, and this was only the beginning. But he couldn’t help giving him _something_ to cling to.

“Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian,” said Thanos.

“Well, for one thing, I'm not Asgardian,” said Loki. “And for another...we have a Hulk.” Right on cue, the green beast came roaring onto the main deck and dove straight for Thanos. That could not have come together any more beautifully. The single most satisfying line he had ever uttered, and the only being in the universe who could have properly appreciated it was on Midgard. Perhaps it _would_ be worth returning there, he thought as he tackled Thor out of Hulk’s way.

Thor laughed feebly. “This is like Svartalfheim all over again.”

“In more ways than one,” said Loki. He glanced over at Hulk and Thanos. So far, things appeared to be going well, but he wasn’t going to rely too much on that. He gripped Thor’s shoulder briefly, adding one last protective spell for good measure, then cloaked himself.

As quickly as he could, Loki located a male Aesir corpse approximately his size, hidden in a slightly darker area of the deck. The man had been killed by the Power Stone, so there was no blood. That would make things easier. Loki didn’t do this very often. Simple incorporeal simulacra usually sufficed. He glanced around again at a sound like cracking bone. Hulk no longer had the upper hand. “Shit,” said Loki. He needed to work quickly. He placed his hand on the man’s chest. In a ripple of green-gold light, the body transformed into his double, and Loki continued pouring seidr into it at a frantic pace. An inert husk wouldn’t convince Maw, no matter how lifelike its movements. He glanced up again. Hulk was now being beaten thoroughly into submission. He was almost out of time. Leaving only the thinnest thread of magic in himself that he could without severing the connection, he left the deck.

His awareness was now split in two. While he sprinted for the lift to the docking bay three levels up, the double got to its feet and drew nearer to Thanos’s children. Thanos hurled the Hulk into a wall, and he slid to the floor, unconscious. Thanos closed in to finish him off, but Thor came from behind to attack him with what looked like a pipe. It bent in two on impact, and Maw immediately stepped forward to bind Thor with strips of metal torn from the ship. Loki suppressed a groan, but it looked like Thor wasn't finished protecting his friend. He met Heimdall's gaze, and the Gatekeeper, still prone, gripped Hofund's hilt. The sword began to glow with golden light. “Allfathers,” he said. “Let the dark magic flow through me one last time.”

A blaze of rainbow light engulfed the Hulk and carried him away. Of course Thor had used up his best chance to escape to save someone else. _You fool_ , Loki thought with bittersweet fondness. _There will be a price._

“That was a mistake,” said Thanos, and he took Corvus Glaive’s weapon and stabbed Heimdall through the heart. Both the Loki in the lift and the copy on the main deck gritted their teeth. Thor’s reaction was less restrained.

“No!” he shouted. “You're going...to die for that!” He struggled fruitlessly against his bonds, but Maw only added another strip of metal to cover Thor's mouth.

"Shhh," he said, holding a finger to his lips. “My humble personage bows before your grandeur,” he went on, now addressing Thanos. He retrieved the Tesseract from where Loki had let it fall and offered it up to the Titan. “No other being has ever had the might, nay the nobility, to wield not one, but two Infinity Stones.” Thanos crushed the Tesseract in his fist and dropped the shining blue gem that remained into its casing in the Gauntlet. A wave of power surged around him. “The universe lies within your grasp.”

Loki shuddered as he ran.

“There are two more Stones on Earth,” said Thanos. _Shit_. This was happening far too fast. At least Heimdall’s final act would provide Earth with a warning. “Find them, my children, and bring them to me on Titan.”

“Father, we will not fail you,” said Proxima.

There. His window. “If I might interject…,” he said, and his double spoke the words as well, finally drawing their attention. “If you're going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have a bit of experience in that arena.”

“If you consider failure experience,” said Thanos with scorn.

 _Yes, Thanos, continue to underestimate me._ “I consider _experience_ experience,” he said irritably. The double began walking towards Thanos. “Almighty Thanos. I, Loki, Prince of Asgard,” he glanced at Thor. “Odinson,” he said with careful emphasis, the first time he had owned the name since falling from the Bifrost. “The rightful King of Jotunheim.” He conjured a dagger in the double’s hand, where Thor could see. “God of Mischief, do hereby pledge to you my undying fidelity.” He hesitated, really wanting to sell that he was steeling himself for something reckless. Then the double drove the dagger towards Thanos’s neck with all the strength Loki’s seidr had given it. The Gauntlet glowed and the dagger failed to reach its target. Not surprising.

“‘Undying’?” said Thanos, seizing the double’s arm. “You should choose your words more carefully.”

_Oh, but I have. I am not Silvertongue for nothing, you deluded, self-important rantallion._

Thanos wrapped his Gauntlet-covered fingers around the double's throat and lifted him off his feet.

Loki was off the lift now. The _Commodore_ sat untouched where he’d parked it shortly after returning to the _Statesman_. He allowed his double to struggle theatrically while displaying all the signs of impending death by strangulation. Much easier to imitate than something like arterial blood spray, so that was helpful. “You...will never...be a god,” he gasped out. The real Loki was smirking as he said it, but then there was a crunch of vertebrae. Loki brutally severed the seidr connection instead of allowing it to return to him, which cut off all sensory input from the main deck. Separated from its source, all that magic would now dim and fade, and sensing that, even Maw would be satisfied to pronounce him dead. The transfiguration spell, being a material change, would not be affected, and the Aesir man would continue to pose as him for several more hours at least.

However, all this came at a price. The backlash from severing his connection to his entire supply of magical energy left him with a splitting headache, and he’d been so thorough in siphoning it away that he’d even sapped whatever subconscious current of it maintained his Aesir form. Whorled blue spread across his flesh, and the _Commodore_ ’s interior became uncomfortably warm. He grimaced. It would likely take days before he could recover enough to do anything about that. Perhaps it was his punishment for his “King of Jotunheim” line. He had no intention of taking that throne, and he strongly doubted the Jotnar would allow him to, considering what he’d done to his predecessor and the realm. He didn’t regret it, but neither was he sorry that Thor had prevented Jotunheim’s total destruction.

He activated only the _Commodore_ ’s shields and cloaking mechanism for now, and all that remained was to wait. He wished he could still see what was happening below. He was trusting in Thanos’s fanatical devotion to the concept of balance that, having killed one brother, he would leave the other alive.

X

The wait wasn’t long. Less than a minute after he severed his connection, the _Statesman_ exploded in purple-black fire. The _Commodore_ ’s shields held, but Loki still didn’t power up any of the ship’s other systems. Burning chunks of the refugee vessel gradually floated apart, giving Loki a clearer view of the surrounding emptiness. Thanos’s ship was nowhere to be seen, but he could make out five moving pinpricks of light in the distance. The shuttles. He slumped a little in his seat. They had made it. The _Commodore_ spun slowly, and Loki began to see the bodies of those who hadn’t amongst the rubble.

Blinding light flared all of a sudden, and Loki startled, fearing he’d been detected despite all his careful planning, but then he saw the forks and veins within the light. No thunder accompanied it, of course. All was silent. With the continued tilting of the ship, he could at last see Thor. There was no atmosphere in which he could conjure his storm as he drifted in the blackness, so it all remained centered on him. His mouth was wide in a soundless roar and he was reaching for one of the other bodies. The double. Loki’s throat tightened and his eyes burned. “Forgive me, Brother,” he murmured into the stillness. Thor had believed him dead twice before, but this was the first time he had deliberately staged it while fully intending to survive. That had been for Thanos’s benefit, but Thor was the one who would suffer for it.

Gradually, the storm calmed, and Loki’s next glimpse of Thor showed him to be unconscious. He must have put too much into it. He wasn’t frozen like the other bodies, though. Loki imagined flying the ship over to him and hauling him on board. He would do it, but not yet. First, he wanted to see if there would be a response to the distress call.

There was. A gaudy orange and blue ship that was shaped a bit like a bird of prey came into view, flying slowly through the wreckage. Within a few seconds, it bumped right into Thor. He must’ve done something to alert the crew that he was alive, because they quickly pulled him—and only him—inside. Loki was reasonably confident about what would happen next. Thor would want revenge, and he wouldn’t rest until he had it. Either Asgard or Valhalla would be waiting for him at the end of that path. Loki would leave the latter to Odin and Frigga, but he would ensure the former was ready for the return of its king.

After the unknown ship left, Loki finally felt he could risk fully powering up the _Commodore_. He’d kept careful track of the bodies he’d seen, and there was one he would not continue to Vanaheim without. It took only moments to find Heimdall again, along with Hofund, which hadn’t drifted far from him.

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him as his blue hands pulled the Gatekeeper into the ship and carefully arranged him with his great sword upon his chest. The last time he’d been in his true skin, he had frozen Heimdall with the Casket of Ancient Winters, unconcerned whether or not it killed him. Now he was making sure he could have the warrior’s funeral he deserved. The golden eyes that had watched over all of Yggdrasil for longer than Loki had been alive had lost their cosmic light. Loki slid them gently closed.

“Heimdall,” he said, “I bid you take your place in the halls of Valhalla, where the brave shall live forever. Nor shall we mourn, but rejoice, for those that have died the glorious death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only discrepancy I couldn't fully account for was Bruce's somewhat detailed knowledge of what Thanos is up to, even though he's been stuck as the Hulk since they left Asgard. I'm assuming Heimdall passed some of his knowledge to him when he sent him through the Bifrost, but it wasn't something I could explore in depth while sticking to Loki's perspective.
> 
> So yeah. All of this is basically a more detailed version of the theory I'd already come up with by the time I got home from the theater on opening night. This isn't just a denial theory for me. I am completely convinced that something like this is what really happened, to the point where posts and fics that have accepted Loki as dead kinda irritate me. Nothing is final until Avengers 4, and even then they're going to have to be extremely explicit about it before I buy it. 
> 
> I came so close to having Thor and Loki's dialogue be "This is just like Svartalfheim all over again!"/"You and I remember Svartalfheim very differently." But it didn't work for what I was trying to do, so Loki's line ended up being different. Also, "rantallion" is an archaic insult about penis size, which nicely balances out what Loki called Nat. I thought I'd make him an equal-opportunity user of archaic genital-themed insults. 
> 
> Next up, Vanaheim.


	4. Heavy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I’m skipping Loki’s travel time to get straight to Vanaheim because nothing really happens while he’s en route, but I’d like you all to imagine with me a montage consisting of a series of quick cuts of very bored Loki sitting various ways in the pilot seat, amusing himself with illusions as soon as his magic has recharged, glancing at the fireworks button but deciding against it because it would be disrespectful to Heimdall, asleep against the controls with his mouth hanging open, and tossing and catching daggers. It wouldn’t at all fit the serious tone of what’s going on in the fic, but you know it’s what happened.

After two days’ worth of flying through the unvaried blackness of space, Loki reached the jump point, and suddenly the verdant landscapes of Vanaheim filled his view. He deactivated the cloaking mechanism, and within moments, the _Commodore_ ’s comms went live, displaying a Vanir guard above the control panel. “Identify yourself and state your business, traveler.”

Thankfully, Loki had already been able to shift back into his Aesir form, so he didn’t hesitate to press the button that would project his image on their end. “It is I, Loki, Crown Prince of Asgard.” It was rather nice to be on a planet where he could state that openly and receive no trouble for it. (Sakaar had hardly counted.) While Vanaheim had certainly heard of his recent exploits, they mattered far less than the preceding centuries of amicable diplomacy in which he had been a prominent figure. “I request escort to the refugee shuttles. I trust they arrived safely?”

“This morning, your highness. They made landfall in the forest on the outskirts of the city of Honir, where they were received by the Lady Sif, as planned. Are you the only one coming? We were told to expect as many as—”

“All those who remained on the ship to battle our enemy fell, save King Thor and myself,” said Loki, “and Thor has gone to seek vengeance.”

There was a brief pause. “Then may he swiftly find it,” said the man, “and may the fallen be welcomed into the halls of Valhalla.”

Loki bowed his head.

“I will send an honor guard to escort you to your people. Please stand by.”

“Very good.”

Two Vanir ships came into view within moments and flanked the _Commodore_ , flying slightly in front so that he could follow. They flew over miles and miles of dense forest before eventually coming to the edge of a small city. The architecture of Vanaheim was similar to that of Asgard, except without the gold. The Vanir ships guided him over to the clearing where all the shuttles were parked, then flew away. He brought the _Commodore_ down on the long grass.

He probably should have expected what happened next. He hadn’t walked five steps towards Honir when a blur of black hair and silver and red armor came pelting towards him. Eyes wide, he summoned daggers just in time to catch the blade of a sword against them before it could reach his throat, but his attacker was driving forward with such force that he still ended up with his back to the ship’s door. “Nice to see you too, Sif,” he said.

Her face was a mask of fury. “ _Four years_ ,” she hissed. “Four years you posed as the Allfather.”

“And four years you failed to detect me,” Loki sneered. “You went dutifully to Knowhere, to Midgard, and here on my orders, happy to be of service to your king. Do you think they were not important assignments?”

“You kept me from Asgard when it needed me most! I could have—”

“What, died on one of Hela and her undead army’s swords like all but the paltry handful of civilians we managed to save? You could not have defeated her. We had to destroy the entire planet to break her power.”

Her free fist collided with his face. He probably could have stopped her, but with Sif it was always better to let at least one blow land or she’d never come down from her rage. “I could have fought alongside my shieldbrothers and sisters!” she shouted, and he was alarmed to see actual tears welling up in her eyes. Her sword dropped to the grass and she seized him by the front of his leathers. “Now they are all gone and I remain, because of you. You made me an honorless coward!”

“You are not a coward for missing a siege and slaughter you knew nothing of,” said Loki, dropping his daggers back into their interdimensional hiding place. “What of my brother? Do you think Thor is sorry that at least _one_ of his oldest friends still lives after everything that’s happened?”

Sif’s face filled with anguish and she sagged against him, a sob tearing its way free from her throat. He wrapped his arms around her and was surprised by how natural it felt. Their friendship hadn’t been strong enough for this sort of thing in decades, and even then he had never been in a position to hold Sif while she cried, because that simply did not happen. “I can’t believe it’s gone,” she said, voice choked.

“Nor can I,” said Loki. “But Asgard is not a place, Sif, it’s a people, however few of us remain.”

She pulled away, wiping her cheeks, and bent down to retrieve her sword. “I came to fetch you for them. They are anxious for news of their king and the battle.”

Loki nodded, and he walked side-by-side with her into Honir, very conscious of the voids left by the four people who should have been walking with them. _But Thor will return_ , he told himself. _He must._

X

Loki’s reunion with the refugees in the main square of Honir was not a comfortable one, for he had to bring these people who had already lost so much the news of the deaths of those who had stayed behind to fight so that they would have a chance to escape. Even with Sif standing to his left and Brunnhilde to his right, he half-expected them to remember his crimes and rail against him for having the audacity to survive when so many more of their friends and loved ones had perished, but their weary, sorrowful faces only continued to look towards him expectantly. It was a larger crowd than had been on the ship; some of the Aesir who had made their homes on Vanaheim had also gathered, along with their Vanir neighbors. The city of Honir had no doubt been chosen for its comparatively large Aesir population.

There was a long moment of silence when Loki finished telling them of the battle on the ship—which he had embellished somewhat, giving each fighter a more glorious end than being blasted to death by the Power Stone.

“When will King Thor return?” said an older craftsman towards the front of the crowd, whom Loki didn’t know by name.

“Not before he has slain the Mad Titan who laid waste to our ship,” said Loki.

“Then until that day, you are king.” Loki’s eyes snapped onto the woman who had spoken. He must be hearing things. But no. That was Hildegund, widow of Volstagg, clutching her surviving children around her. She hadn’t spoken a word to him aboard the ship, but as their gazes met, she put fist to heart and sank to one knee. In a spreading wave, the rest of the people followed her lead, all the way up to Brunnhilde and Sif.

Why did he only legitimately become king when he least wanted the position? There had of course been times when he would have gloried in such a show of trusting subservience from the proud people of Asgard, but seeing them kneel before him now only made him feel ill. All he could think about was how small the crowd was compared to the day of Thor’s aborted coronation. So few had escaped Hela, and even fewer had escaped Thanos. And now he was responsible for ensuring their survival. Somehow, it felt a far heavier burden than either his previous stint as regent or his masquerade as Odin.

“Please, rise,” he said. It was a struggle to make his voice sound normal with his throat so tight. “We have funeral rites to prepare.”

X

There was a serviceably large lake within easy distance of Honir, and one of the Aesir immigrants freely offered his fishing vessel. Loki and Sif did most of the work arranging Heimdall’s body in the boat. There should have been many other boats casting out over the lake, of course, but there was only one. One boat in which to fit all the grief of the people of Asgard.

Loki watched the boat float out across the water, thinking of another funeral—the one he hadn’t been able to attend as he sat in his cell. Brunnhilde loosed the arrow that set Heimdall’s boat alight. It was fitting. His mother had been a Valkyrie, and now the last of her order could send him back to her.

X

Someone (most likely Brunnhilde) had had the presence of mind to have arranged the moment the shuttles touched down for a truly staggering amount of ale to be brought to Honir for the post-funeral revelry. If you could rely on the Aesir for anything, it was that they never missed an opportunity for feasting and song, no matter how grim the circumstances. None of the three feast halls in Honir were large enough to accommodate everyone, so tables and benches were brought to the square, where an enormous bonfire was quickly raised and heaping platters of food were brought in by their generous hosts.

Few who had not been raised among the Aesir would recognize this particular celebration as a desperate attempt to stave off the crushing weight of grief and uncertainty that gripped them all. It was one of the ways Loki had always felt different from them, long before he learned what he was. Being in the company of so many people at once when they were at their most boisterous was _exhausting_ , and just now, when he knew how hard they were trying to enjoy themselves, it was also incredibly painful.

He didn’t stay much longer than it took to eat and drink his fill. The singing had already begun, accompanied by a few lutes and pipes but mostly stomping and clapping, and dancing was sure to break out any moment now. He didn’t go far, just around to the other side of one of the buildings.

The trees surrounding the city were too tall to be able to see far in any direction, but Vanaheim still had a feeling of vastness that had been understandably absent from Asgard. He had barely needed to set foot on it to have the rest of his seidr fully replenished. He looked up at the sky. The suns had set somewhere behind the trees, and stars were beginning to emerge. Perhaps he would still be able to persuade Thor that they should remain here.

“I spent so much time on Sakaar that I nearly forgot what Asgardian parties could be like.”

Loki turned and saw Brunnhilde walking towards him, a large tankard in hand. He should’ve expected it by now, after all the times she’d done it on the ship, not to mention their conversation and that attempted kiss. “Yes, the Grandmaster did have a rather different approach to revelry,” he said.

“They all want me to tell them stories of the Valkyrior. Sif in particular. And they’re so bloody cheerful.” She came to a halt next to him.

“It must be nice,” said Loki, “having a pathological inability to give up hope.”

“I remember what that was like,” she said. She drained the tankard and tossed it aside. “Despite my best efforts.”

“And so once again, you find yourself on the outskirts with me.”

She scowled. “You still think I’m only here for lack of other options? Just so you know, there happen to be a lot of outskirts to choose from.” She planted her feet directly in front of him and looked up at him with slightly unfocused eyes. “I’m choosing _this_ spot.”

“Sif didn’t warn you off me, then?” he said. It came out a bit hoarse.

Brunnhilde snorted. “Oh, she tried, but I can’t generally be talked out of my bad decisions.” She reached out a hand and prodded him on the chest, then smirked. “Good. Solid this time.” She pressed her palms flat against him and slid them up to clasp her fingers behind his neck. Loki was finding it rather difficult to draw breath, so to simplify matters, he kissed her. Kissing the last Valkyrie was not unlike sparring with her. As skilled as he considered himself to be, he was only barely able to keep up. He soon found himself pinned to a wall, not that he minded.

Before he could start trying to work out how to unfasten her leather armor, however, she pulled back, breathing hard, their arms still locked firmly around each other. “I want you to show me your real face,” she said.

He covered his flare of panic and surprise with a laugh. “Now whyever would I do that?”

“Because I’m asking nicely.”

“Oh, but if I comply, then you’ll stop kissing me, so what precisely is my incentive?”

“I already stopped kissing you,” she pointed out smugly.  

He glared at her. She didn’t budge. Fine. When she turned away in disgust or pulled the Dragonfang on him, it would only prove him right. He found the newly retied knot of seidr that maintained his Aesir appearance and let it unravel. The cool night became hot against his skin.

Loki looked at Brunnhilde again with eyes he knew were now ruby-red, but the disgust he expected failed to appear. Her gaze roved over him, tracing the lines etched into his skin. The corner of her mouth turned up. With deliberate slowness, she pulled him down to her again and kissed him. Their differences in skin temperature made it a very interesting experience. It felt like she was searing into his flesh. A groan rumbled up from his chest and he pulled her even closer. She knew all the worst of him, had seen him for what he truly was, and still wanted him. What he’d thought was little more than physical attraction on his part suddenly threatened to deepen into something much greater.

Eventually, he had to come up for air, and he rested his forehead against hers.

“Now there’s a handy way to keep from overheating,” she said. He could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Happy to be of service,” he said.

“How does it feel to be wrong?”

“Better than it usually does.”

“I told you I can’t be talked out of my bad decisions. Are you going to stop trying now?”

“Perhaps I require more persuading.”

She gave a throaty chuckle, but before she could begin any persuasion, they heard screams coming from the direction of the square. They shared a troubled glance before breaking apart and running to see what was wrong, Loki shifting back into Aesir form and both of them readying their weapons along the way.

The scene before them when they rounded the side of the building defied comprehension. There were no attackers, but raucous enjoyment had given way to terrified panic, and the reason was clear. All through the crowd, without discernible cause, people young and old were flaking into ash and blowing away in the breeze. Loki watched, horrified, as a screaming Hildegund’s hands passed through what was left of one of her children, only for her to begin disintegrating too. And it wasn’t just happening to the Aesir. Most of the Vanir residents of Honir had been enjoying the revelry alongside them, and just as many of them were now turning to ash while their loved ones watched, helpless.

“Loki?”

He turned wildly and saw the Dragonfang fall to the ground as Brunnhilde’s fingers began crumbling away. “NO!” he shouted, catching her in his arms. He poured his magic blindly into her, trying to hold her together, but the process didn’t even slow. The last glimpse he had of her was her confused, frightened eyes meeting his, and then his arms closed on ashes. He staggered back, powerless to do anything but wait to be swept up along with the rest.

Sif came running up to him. “What is this?” she asked, more terrified than he had ever heard her, even in battles when they had been hopelessly outnumbered. “What’s happening to them?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “My magic couldn’t stop it.”

She looked even more afraid at that. She caught him by the arm. He grabbed onto her as well, as if they both hoped childishly that it would be enough to anchor each other in existence. They watched the dwindling crowd. After a few more moments, the mysterious force causing people to fade away seemed to cease. Roughly half of the total people who had been in the square before remained.

Through his numb disbelief, Loki realized what it meant, and his insides went cold.

Thanos had won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care what the Russos said about Sif; this is the ending I always had in mind for this fic, and I seriously doubt we'll see Valkyrie in Avengers 4 until after they reverse the snap anyway, so it most likely doesn't matter in canon which of them goes dusty here. 
> 
> What does interest me about the Russos stating that Sif (and the Asgardian actor played by Matt Damon) turned to dust is that it means that the Asgardians, after being nearly wiped out by Hela and Thanos killing many of the survivors, were not spared from the snap. Which means Thanos's entire rationale is an even bigger pile of bullcrap than it already was. If he actually cared about overpopulation and balance, he'd consider the post-Ragnarok Asgardians overachievers and leave them alone. Instead, he hits them twice. I have never in my life wanted to watch a character die screaming this badly. I hope Thor gets to deal the killing blow.
> 
> So anyway, not sorry for the sad ending, because this fic is designed to slot into canon, not change it. My main goal was to illustrate a way Loki might have survived without Thor or Thanos knowing it, and I believe I have achieved that goal. Now all I can do is wait for Avengers 4.


End file.
